


Just Breathe

by RelicIron



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, caden's an ex-Republic soldier, set some time after the Nathema Conspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelicIron/pseuds/RelicIron
Summary: Arcann has a close call on the battlefield and it triggers a flashback. Thankfully, Caden's there to talk him through it.
Relationships: Arcann/Male Bounty Hunter
Kudos: 24





	Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no longer very happy with this, but I don't want to delete it as some of you guys enjoyed it. So just keep in mind that I've kind of moved on without this.

The concussion knocks him to the ground and world around him narrows down to the red dirt underneath him and the ringing in his ears.

Agony. So hot and bright he can’t breathe. And when he finally manages to suck in a breath, he nearly chokes on the thick stench of charred flesh.

It’s gone. He can’t feel his arm passed the searing pain. It’s GONE.

“ _Arcann?”_

IT’S GONE AND HE CAN’T BREATHE.

“ _Arcann.”_

He tries to open his eyes but Scyva’s mercy, one WON’T OPEN. IT’S GONE IT MUST BE-

“ _ARCANN!”_

He startles, thoughts knocked off track, but that voice is familiar.

“ _Breathe Arcann, just take it slow.”_

It’s low and husky but calm. Steady. Undemanding.

He shudders as he finally manages to inhale past the tightness in his throat. And just… does what he’s told. Just breathes. Breathes and lets the world settle around him.

The air smells like seared metal and ozone, not burnt flesh; and there are shouts and blaster fire, but it’s a ways off.

He can feel the cold dirt against his forehead, feels it grind against his skin as he shifts.

There is no searing pain eating through his shoulder, just the faint, dull ache that comes with using his arm in a prolonged battle.

His arm.

Eyes snap open to try to look at it, but everything tilts again and he squeezes them shut again.

“Easy! Take it easy.”

He knows that voice.

“Arcann?”

The Commander.

“Let me know if you can hear me.”

He nods.

“Good. Can I touch your right hand?”

Another nod as his mind whirls trying to remember what’s happened and where he is.

He feels rough, calloused fingers gently take his flesh hand. Thumb worrying over his knuckles.

Its distracting, and some distant part of himself can recognize that that’s the point, but he’s too drawn in to care.

“Do you know where we are?”

It takes Arcann a moment before his memory begins to surface.

The Alliance had been called on by their new Republic allies to help retake Balmorra, and since he’d been instrumental in securing it for the Empire years ago, the Commander felt obligated to lend a hand.

“The Markaran plains, near the droid factory.”

The fingers squeeze his own.

“That’s right. We had a squad with us, but the Imps caught up. They had a couple shoulder launchers. Missile almost hit you.”

Arcann hears him shift next to him and finally summons the strength to open his eyes.

Eternal Alliance Commander Caden Vega, is knelt in the dirt by his side, left thumb still smoothing over Arcann’s knuckles unconsciously as he scans the area for incoming threats.

He must make some sound, because Vega breaks off his search to glance down at him. A calm smile curves his lips.

“Hey,” his voice is low and whiskey-rough, as always, and it curls passed his lips like smoke. “You with me?”

And just like that, hot shame burns through him. He’d never had something like this happen before, and while he was whimpering into the dirt like a fucking _child_ , he’d left the Commander undefended. He could have been killed, and worse, Vega had likely been forced to guard Arcann while he was having his… his fit.

“I’m gonna help you sit up now, that alright?”

Arcann nods numbly and let Vega prop him up against a chunk of broken duracrete. He watches as Vega tugs his other glove off and nearly flinches when he reachs up to cradle his face. One broad palm frames Arcann’s jaw, tilting his head back, while another gently keeps his eye open as he peers into it, first the right, then the left. Checking his pupils, then.

“I’m not sure if you hit your head, do you remember if you did?”

He can’t. He can’t even remember the fight up until then, either. All of it is still in a muddled blob of noise and color that he can’t quite sift through yet.

Yet another failure.

“That’s alright, lemme have a look.”

Arcann’s head is tilted down and those rough fingers carefully drag through the stubble on his scalp, feeling around for bumps. He’s exhausted and the gentle touch sends shivers down his spine. He has to consciously will himself _not_ to arch into it.

“Looks ok.”

It takes him a moment, but he finally manages to un-stick his tongue.

“Where are the others?”

Vega leans back into view and nods to the hill behind them.

“Over there. When I saw you go down, I let Jorgan take command. Figured the last thing you needed was an audience. Sounds like he’s pushed the Imps back to the ruins, should be over soon.”

Arcann lets his head hang and rubs over his eyes. His hand is still shaking. There’s no way Vega wouldn’t have noticed.

Pathetic.

“Hey?”

A weight slides over his shoulder and squeezes. Arcann looks up into warm, gold eyes that are closer than he’d thought.

There’s no accusation there, no disappointment, no anger. Just concern and sympathy that looks too genuine to be pity.

“You got a flashback, it’s not the end of the world. You ever have that happen before?”

“No, Commander. It shouldn’t have happened at all, you have my apolog-”

Vega cuts him off.

“Uh uh, no apologies. There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says.

He lets go of Arcann and pivots slightly on his knee until he can comfortably sit down. Heavy plate clanking against the duracrete.

“Listen, a lot of bounty hunters are ex-soldiers, so you don’t get to far into the business without starting to see stuff like this. With the variety of jobs you have to do, running into a trigger is kinda inevitable. It’s happened to me plenty of times, I was just lucky it never got me killed. Once I had the credits to spare, I started seeing a doc to help me with them.”

“Mako’s suggestion,” he laughs before smiling tiredly, “They never really go away, but you get better at dealing with it and learn to avoid the stuff you can’t.”

The dirt crunches beneath his boots as Vega pushes himself up onto his feet. The midday sun reflects off his armor and turns his white hair platinum.

He looks like a Vanguard of Aivela, come to spirit him away from the battlefield.

And by Scy’va’s grace, Arcann would gladly let him.

Instead, he takes the offered hand and hoists himself up as well.

He gets a slightly-too-hard pat on the back and lets Vega steady him when it throws off his balance.

“I can’t make you get help for this, but I think ‘d be a good idea. Lana’s already got some shrinks lined up to replace my old one, it shouldn’t be that hard to find one for you, so just lemme know if that’s something you might want.”

He smiles softly, “At the very least, talk to me or Senya, keeping this shit in isn’t the way to go. I ain’t a doctor, but I’d be happy to listen anyways.”

Arcann can’t speak passed the lump in his throat, so he just nods.

Vega looks like he’s going to say something more, but then Major Jorgan is jogging over the hill towards them.

“Commander, we got the Imps and managed to take a lieutenant captive. With any luck he may be able to give us a better idea of the factory’s fortifications.”

The Commander switches gears seamlessly.

“Sounds good, you want to put the squeeze on them or should I?” he said with a wicked grin.

Jorgan chuckles, “I think I can take care of it.”

He glances at Arcann, but doesn’t say anything. He isn’t sure how much the Major saw, but he’s grateful that the Commander had the good grace to send his men away. Both to save Arcann’s pride, damaged pathetic thing that it was, and to keep them safe. There was a very good chance that he would have lashed out in that condition, and the last thing he needed was to give the Alliance another reason not to trust him.

Perhaps Vega was right. He should take him up on his offer, if for no other reason than to keep their soldiers safe.

He shook himself off. It was a consideration for later. For now, the Commander needed him, and Arcann was ready to serve, flashback be damned.

Even if it took an hour before his hands stopped shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> I looked up a 'what do you do if someone's having a flashback' guide, so hopefully I portrayed it correctly. Caden's both had them himself and been around others having them, so he's pretty experienced with getting people out of it.  
> It's pretty common for people coming out of a long period of stress and abuse to have a sudden increase in mental health problems after spending time in a safe, stable environment. So I figured it would make sense for him to start showing symptoms of it around now.  
> And Aivela is one of the Zakuulan gods, she's said to 'shine her light on fearless warriors', so 'Vanguard of Aivela' is my Zakuulan version of the Valkyrie from Norse legend.


End file.
